Going underground

I will be working undercover until Tuesday 4th May so no further blogging until then. Unlike the last time I was away carrier pigeons cannot be used to contact me. Urgent messages can instead be sent on channel Delta-Delta-Niner-Niner-Zero. Codename - StarCom.

Knights for Freedom

I have an idea for a charity event. It’s called Knights for Freedom and this is how it works.

It’s a sponsorship based event where up to 50 people dress up as knights, take themselves, their equipment and their horses over to France and ride a pre-arranged route through the French countryside planting a freedom banner in every village they come across.

For each planted banner (essentially a taken village) sponsors cough up a certain amount for the chosen charity.

Now, I’m sure that the French authorities will be really cool about this because it is a charity event so the main problems remain ones of style and logistics. For instance 50 riders all wearing different kinds of armour and the like would clash horribly so I suggest we all pick the well known Crusader style popularised in those old films, you know, white with the red cross thingy. Logistical problems I suspect will be mainly isolated to the organisation of enough of the right kind of food and drink to ship out from Dover. Knights need proper beer, though I suspect wine can be picked up along route.

We can even arrange to have some mock battles with local villagers. You know where they come out with their farm implements all shouting and screaming and what have you and we ride through them with the slashing and the chopping. All with foam covered weapons of course. Immense fun for both sides and all in a good cause.

I’m sure it could be made to work.

Who will ride with me?

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap...

Eurozone in London

Why does this annoy me?

From Friday, people visiting Kingly Court, behind the world famous Carnaby Street, will be able to use euros as well as pounds.

I mean, these shopkeepers can take whatever they want in exchange for their goods; monopoly money for instance. Or pig fat. Or blankets and whiskey. But freaking Euros! Please.

Next week: A small pub in Bedford ratifies the EU constitution.

Happy birthday Johnny

So, some time back members of the UK government looked at the rising gun crime statistics and the blood drained from their collective faces. They saw guns being carried as fashion accessories or as necessary tools of the drug trade. They saw the indiscriminate firing of sub-machine guns in the streets and seemingly motiveless shootings of innocent citizens going about their day to day lawful business. They heard reports of robbery and murder at the drop of a hat. They could not believe their eyes and ears and they knew that something needed to be done.

Naturally the first thing they did was to call an amnesty. No surprise there then. This is where a group of generally law abiding people hand in a bunch of old crap they’ve had lying around for ages. The media showed loads of pictures of old guns in buckets and the police and the Home Office cried success.

Then the government sent a few representatives out to various gun-control meetings across the country to make vague promises about curbing gun culture. Right noises were made, advice from gun clubs and associations was dismissed, and everyone agreed that guns were evil, nasty things that had no useful purpose except to those with criminal intent.

We will not become like America, they said. Never, never, never.

Then they sat down to draw up their new laws. Yes, laws so devious, so mighty and righteous that the criminals will have no choice but to sit up and take notice.

First off was a five year minimum jail term for anyone caught in possession of a prohibited firearm. Two birds with one stone this one. A law that would deter the criminals who were shooting at each other in the streets and annoy those that were to judge them in the courts all at the same time. No longer could those pesky judges let someone off lightly.

What could they possibly do to follow this?

It had been noted that some clever criminals were converting a particular and reasonably well defined type of air pistol, commonly known as the Brocock, into real live firearms. Eyes darted over to the mighty ban stick. Converting the pistols was already a criminal offence but to ban the gun in its original sporting form would show that the government meant business. It was an opportunity for the stick that could not be missed.

Never mind the community that had taken to using these ugly and dangerous guns for their dirty and wicked sport. The government has pushed these kinds of people around before. A pathetic minority that could be safely ignored.

So the Brocock, or self contained gas cartridge pistol, was effectively banned. It was no longer legal to sell or transfer ownership of them in the UK. Existing owners could either hand them into the police (bucket collection style) or apply for a special license so that they could keep their property until it fell into disrepair. No need for compensation because a clever law like this doesn't require it. It's not really theft. Governments do not steal.

And so it was done, with a grace period just to allow for the sporting minority to hand in their property or apply for licenses.

This grace period runs out in just a little over a day.

However, there is a problem. You see, most people don’t follow the government’s legislative process very closely. It’s not that they don’t care, it’s just that they are busy doing other things. They think that if the government wants to tell them something important, like that airgun you brought your son for his birthday last year is illegal now they would. After all, it tells you when you are too fat, too fast or too smoky doesn’t it?

So now we have the situation, fantastical as it is, where almost all of the 75,000 banned airguns are still unlicensed and in circulation and where there is a minimum five year sentence for anyone caught in possession of one. This is the stark reality of knee jerk ill thought out legislation, a term now synonymous with UK gun law:

"The stark reality is that if people ignore the changes in the law they could ultimately end up in prison," said Chief Supt Paul Robinson, of the Metropolitan Police.

So happy birthday Johnny and merry Christmas to each and every one of you state made criminals. Recorded gun crime could be about to jump to its highest level ever. An astonishing result given the original intention, even for this government.

Quote of the day

As to the BNP themselves, I think their un-British attitudes were truly emphasised by the fact they had to invite a Frenchman to an event celebrating St George's Day weekend.

From Drake posting over at The Edge of England's Sword. Snigger.

Once again the EU shows its colours

This post by Kim du Toit got me to thinking about all those EU countries that refused to collaborate with the Turkish Cypriots because of one reason or another prior to the recent NO vote on the UN plan by the Greek Cypriots but now seem happy to do so.

I can’t quite understand the new EU attitude. What is it that the EU didn’t like about the Turkish invasion that they can forget about now?

Is it that they thought just a little too much land was stolen in the invasion but that now the Greek Cypriots have refused an offer to only ever get some of that land back it’s ok to collaborate with those that stole it?

Maybe they objected to the presence of an occupying army which is somehow not a problem for them any more.

What facts about the Turkish invasion have changed?

What is dreadful is that this change in attitude has come after a democratic vote took place and not because of a sudden surge in terrorist violence or some such by the Greek Cypriots. They were asked a simple question and gave an honest answer.

They want all their property back and they want the invading army to remove its forces. Remember, this isn’t about not wanting to live with Turkish Cypriots; that wasn’t what the vote was all about and I have it on good authority that living with their Turkish counterparts is not a particularly insurmountable problem. All Cypriots together, as my source says.

I think this says so much more about the EU than it does about the Greek Cypriots.

The Grid

In the Matrix, Neo brought forth confusion. He shook up the order of things and interrupted the smooth flow of the pre-ordained program. Neo was Chaos to the Matrix.

In the grid there is no clear Neo like character.

There's a Morpheus who works outside of the grid. He's called Gordon.

There was a Mr. Smith character, or Alastair if you will who is off doing his own thing and who can no longer be relied upon for the order that it brought. We can only hope that it is not replicating itself.

There is, however, no hero. No single individual who would free the masses from the governance and iron grip maintained by the grid.

Perhaps there is no hero because there is no Oracle. There is just The Nanny. The all seeing and all knowing Nanny who sits in the centre of his program. A program called The Home Office.

And there is the grid itself, craptacular in its inadequacy. Once firm and defined, now twisting and turning and more of a U shape than a grid.

Will it hold or will it fall? Will we be free?

Here’s a question

If you were given 3 billion quid to use in the fight against terrorism and other types of crime would you spend it all issuing membership cards?

I’m not sure I would.

I'm sorry, did I say 3 billion? I meant 4.5 billion.

Sorry again, I actually meant 5.2 billion.

Due to unforeseen circumstances I'm having to review the offer to 6 billion. Oh, by the way, please take your time. We know that spending this kind of money can take quite a while.

What's that? Need more money you say? Here you go.

Just popping in to say.....

...what a load of rubbish.

Action Man - from tough guy to pussy

Caitlin Moran, in the Times laments the demise of Action Man:

The theory is that political correctness and post-9/11 squeamishness have ended Action Man’s reign as the archetypal boys’ toy, given that his recent, disastrous rebranding effort moved him away from horse-sized bombs and flensing knives, and introduced two new, worthy friends instead: Redwolf, “a Native American who possesses a deadly aim with his crossbow”, and Flynt, a man gifted with “amazing boomerang skill”. Action Man, the insinuation is, has gone a bit nice-Chianti, a bit batik-waistcoat, a bit pouffy — an accusation not helped by Hasbro’s enthusiastic but gnomic claim that New Action Man loves “riding his dirt-surfer to the extreme”. There’s always the chance that this is just the latest street-slang for a Hoover — because people on the streets are always coming up with new, arcane slang for things like tumble-dryers and juicing machines — but, either way, things aren’t looking good for Action Man next time he walks into a pub in the wrong part of Macclesfield on a Friday night.

... Action Man isn’t a man at all — he is whatever nine-year-old boy is playing with him at the time. And whenever a nine-year-old boy puts together a gang, it will consist of someone called “Brains”, who comes up with all the ideas, someone strong, who will be called “Muscle”, and a wisecracking maverick who saves the day called “Maverick”. There will be no boomerangs, no one is called “Flynt”, and no one rides his dirt-surfer to the extreme. That’s all a bit fanciful and time-wasting when there are five Action Mans hanging from a dressing-gown belt strung out of the bathroom window.

Those evil knit-your-own-yoghurt leftists are to blame, apparently.

I was once the proud owner of an amazing gripping hand crew cut action man and I am sure that what we are seeing now is not the demise of the true action man but, instead, the demise of the modern Hasbro pale imitation.

The original action man, which reached its design pinnacle with the introduction of the aforementioned gripping hands, did exactly what any kid wanted an action figure to do. It bent in exactly the way one wanted it to bend, it looked good and it could grip any of the accessories produced for it. And I mean GRIP.

The modern Hasbro action man is the sum of the accessories that it comes with. Let’s take the blue diving suited action man, which my boy has. This action figure can be made to swim (in a man from Atlantis kind of way) with just a little winding of his right arm at the shoulder. This is great for about five minutes of bath playtime but what then? The arms do not bend properly (probably due to some compromise necessitated by the engineering of the swimming mechanism), the hands have all the gripping ability of the most effeminate Cindy doll and, get this, the damn blue scuba suit is moulded onto the toy. It cannot be removed. This toy, in short, is a one shot deal.

What is a boy to do when the need is there for an explosives operative, a sniper or a desert rat? There are some situations for which a blue suited, rigid armed effeminate diver is simply not appropriate.

And it is not the only one from the range like this.

In the old days the action man purchasing cycle use to be: buy boy action man figure in his plain green fatigues, with pistol, helmet and rifle for Christmas. Buy tank or jeep on Birthday. Buy occasional accessory packs at parental discretion. One action man could use all the accessories. He bent the right way and could grip anything the accessory designers threw at him. Parents trusted action man, kids could act out a zillion different scenarios with one figure, and action man was exactly what he was supposed to be. A man. Of action.

Modern action man is no longer the toy it used to be and parents are fed up of paying for a rigid form of a toy that they remember as more flexible and user friendly. Hasbro, no doubt think we are stupid enough to pay for another figure, and then another, for each scenario that takes the fancy of our children.

We are not.

Effectively, action man has become a specialised, Guardian reading big girl’s blouse.

Tim Blair comments.

No. How could the answer be anything else?

If you present a bunch of people with the questions:

1. Is it ok if the people who stole your property get to keep it?
2. Is it ok if invaders keep a sizable unwelcome army in your country?

you should not be surprised if those people reply with a resounding no.

The Guardian says that the Annan plan, though not particularly fair to the Greek Cypriots, was better than nothing. Most Greek Cypriots failed to agree with the Guardian which apparently makes them dinosaurs.

I've got news for the Guardian (which is more than they have for me). It's called democracy and it rocks!

St George's day: Off to...

...the pub.

St. George's day: Google

Via Laban Tall's blog I note that the UK google site has a St. George's day graphic up and very nice it is too:

Man, I hope google don't mind me reproducing this.Nice one google.

St. George's day: What are the English like?

These people over here can tell you. Here's my favorite bit:

The French and the English have [b]een sparring partners for so long that the English have developed a kind of love-hate relationship with them. The English love France. They love its food and wine and thoroughly approve of its climate. There is a subconscious historical belief that the French have no right to be living in France at all, to the extent that thousands of Englishmen try annually to turn the more attractive areas of France into little corners of Surrey.

Read the rest of it and enjoy. I think they mean it as a little bit of fun.

There is a whole directory of stuff here from the same people. It's a Russian site so why not play a little roulette with the files and see what you can turn up.

St George's day: BBC, ranty.

Well, Aunty beeb is having its say on St. George’s day.

But could it be that the English are actually better off with only a few low-key events, and slightly sad-looking flags flown from the odd pub or white van?

A national day of celebrations, with all the lost working hours they bring and the need to lay on exciting events the tourists will talk about back home, doesn't come cheap.

If St George wants us to have a party in his honour he's going to have to find somebody to pay for it.

Who’s going to pay for a national holiday? Business will suffer. Doom. We may loose a competitive edge. Pub business will boom somehow. Dragons may be injured or killed.

To be fair to the BBC it’s not a particularly unbalanced article. It’s just that I’m feeling upbeat today and any rain from the Beeb is going to land on ranty ears.

Wait, wait, here it comes. Just thinking about the Beeb nowadays makes me turn green. Look, my shirt is being torn to pieces by my expanding muscles of righteousness.

We should have a parade outside the BBC television centre. That way they can all stand at the windows and piss on it in comfort.

Ahhh, calm.

Yay!

St. George's day: England and the English

Well, what a cracking good read. Tim, over at An Englishman’s Castle has posted the text to what looks like a speech given by Rudyard Kipling to the Royal Society of St. George in 1920. It certainly reads like it should be spoken and the ending sentence is just begging to be repeated in the pub when I get there tonight:

But we will be circumspect! My lords, ladies and gentlemen—for what there is of it—for such as it is—and for what it may be worth—will you drink to England and the English?

Yes, they will look at me in that funny way again.

I urge you to read it. Though there is in the text parts that I cannot quite bring myself to believe (that bit about the driving force of the Empire for example) it is nevertheless a frank and beautifully written statement of the authors understanding of England and the English.

It must be read with some understanding of the time in which it is written. It is just after the Great War (that is the first World War) and England and much of the world is reeling from the blow that comes with the virtual loss of a whole generation of youth to war.

He nails one national characteristic that can be attributed to the masses:

Our national weakness for keeping to the easiest road to the latest possible minute sooner than inconvenience ourselves or our neighbours has been visited upon us full tale. After ninety-nine years of peace the English were given ninety-six hours in which to choose whether they would buy a little longer peace from the Heathen of the North, as some of their ancestors had done, or whether they would make peace with them as our King Alfred made it with the Danes. It was a race that had almost forgotten how to say “No” to anybody who said “Yes” in a sufficiently loud voice. It seemed as if it had quite forgotten that it had broken a Church, killed a King, closed a Protectorate and exiled another King, sooner than be driven where it did not want to go. But when its hour came, once again it decided to go its own way, and once again by instinct. For it had prepared nothing—it had foreseen nothing. It had been assured that not only was there no need for preparation against war, but that the mere thought of preparation against war was absurd where it was not criminal. Therefore, through the first two years of the war, it was necessary to throw up a barricade of the dead bodies of the nation’s youth behind which the most elementary preparations could be begun.

We still see this national characteristic of not getting excited about things until it is almost too late today. I have often read little comments by pundits deriding the English for not doing something about it, whatever it might be. The European Project, not being allowed to own firearms for self defence, tolerating New Labour’s meddling in national institutions that have functioned in a perfectly satisfactory manner for centuries.

It can take a lot to wake the lion. The English will never go quietly into the night but it is a walk in the park to keep them occupied until early evening.

Oh and another thing. Kipling is fully aware of the multicultural aspects of English heritage. This is not an isolationalist rant by a little Englander (Oh Lord, how I hate that phrase, amen) but a work that is fully accepting of the mix that is England and the English.

Today is St. George’s day

I will begin today’s festivities with a hymn. It’s Jerusalem by William Blake (what, is that the best you can do? – Ed) and the reason that I chose this to appear in my first post today rather than any other hymn or poem is because it reminds me so much of England and growing up here. It’s been a theme throughout, from my daily assembly when I was at school, to my infrequent visits to various Church of England churches. It’s been sung on the telly and the radio, I’ve read it in books, I’ve sung it at weddings and at funerals. I’ve sung it stone cold sober and when I’ve been three sheets to the wind (usually followed by Bohemian Rhapsody).

If you’ve not heard it you won’t get the full benefit of it just from the words. It is a fantastically well constructed song, with goose bumps mandatory and unavoidable at the end of each verse. Brrrrrr.

A cracking tune for a Great country.

Jerusalem by William Blake (1757-1827)

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountain green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.

Was that a helicopter Abu?

Are they leaving Arafat's compound because Arafat doesn't want them there or because they don't fancy living too close to Arafat?

Hunter wins right to keep Magnum

Honestly, I never thought I'd see the day:

A High Court judge has overruled a police chief's decision to refuse an amateur deer hunter a firearms certificate for a .44 Magnum revolver.

Yup, this is England and that's Clint's gun.

Expect deer perpetrated crime to drop dramatically.

Great Scott, Scott!

Scott Burgess is doing some fine work uncovering some differences between BBC guidelines and BBC reality. While the rest of us rant and rave it's good to know that there are people like Scott out there who actually, you know, provide us with material worthy of the ranting. And the raving.

Porter potty

I remember seeing Janet Street-Porter on TV once dissing the Internet. Now, thanks to the wonders of the net I get to read her bullshit from the comfort of my own IP address.

blah blah blah blah

It’s like playtime

Remember?

When I was at secondary school I was often witness to a debate or two in the playground. Indeed, I was partial to a good old debate myself. All that gradual raising of voices, the jeering crowds, the spitting and swearing, the clenching of fists and the inevitable exchange of that usefully non-committal phrase - come on then.

Ah yes, and when a little older the debating moved from the playground to the public house. All very much the same except that the language was a little different and there was less spitting. The phrase come on then changed to Right! Outside! and there tended to be a little less jeering from the crowd probably in recognition of the more serious nature of the material being debated.

I never looked for interesting topics to discuss with fellow students or drinkers but, instead, had weighty issues forced upon me. Your team’s rubbish at football. What do you think about the poll tax and Thatcher? Hey, are you looking at my girlfriend?

Then it all stopped. Thankfully. I got a job, got married, got a blog and stopped debating all together.

However, clearly some people decided they liked the rush they got from a good old fashioned face off. What to do? What to do?

What could they do other than get a job in that playground of all playgrounds, the House of Commons.

So this bloke Blair said to his mate that he wants a referendum on the EU constitution and that bloke Howard had a right old go at him ‘cos he thinks Blair will keep asking everyone to vote until they give him the answer he wants. It was mad.

Tory leader Michael Howard seized on the words, which came in his clash with Mr Blair in a rowdy House of Commons.

In fierce exchanges, Mr Howard mocked ministers' U-turn on holding a vote.

…both sides heckled and jeered…

…the two leaders slugged out their opposing positions…

…the battle lines were set out…

…a war of words…

And there was a fantastic replacement for Right! Outside. It has become explore all the issues. Marvellous.

You know, as long as the shouting and the screaming continues in the House of Commons we’re unlikely to go completely to hell in this country. Shouting and screaming is good not only for people, but also for Democracy.

BBC History

Melanie Phillips ponders:

One day, our descendants may look back on the insanity of the west at this time and conclude that the BBC had much to answer for. That is, of course, if there is still a west, which the BBC world view is doing so much to undermine.

More likely they will be learning about the BBC in their media history classes.

So let me get this straight. People had to pay this Bee Bee Cee just to use a television?

 - Effectively, yes.

Even if then never watched their channels?

 - 'fraid so.

Bwahahahahaha.

Consider this

You get home from work tonight to find that all TV services have suffered a disastrous breakdown. You have no TV and it takes a week to get it back up and running again.

Or

You get home from work tonight to find that the Internet has suffered a disastrous breakdown. You have no Internet access and it takes a week to get it up and running again.

Under which scenario would you feel less well informed.

We are, mainly, children of the TV revolution. Many of us were brought up relying on TV for entertainment and information and I for one would have found life without it (having had it) a very strange and isolating experience indeed.

However, I think things have changed.

The Red Baron's last flight

Today is the anniversary of the last flight of Baron Manfred Albrecht von Richthofen; the Red Baron.

He was shot and killed over Morlancourt Ridge, near the Somme River on April 21st 1918 while pursuing a Sopwith Camel piloted by Lieutenant Wilfrid "Wop" May of Canada. The Baron was himself being chased at the time by a plane piloted by another Canadian, Captain Arthur "Roy" Brown.

It's not clear who fired the fatal shot but it is though to have been either Captain Roy Brown or an Australian anti-aircraft battery on the ground.

The Red Baron had at least 80 combat victories to his name, including the shooting down of Lanoe George Hawker, British fighter pilot and Victoria Cross winner.

Opportunity awaits

Like I said before, Tim over at An Englishman's Castle is looking for charity sponsors. The run/walk kicks off on the 2nd May so time is running short. If you want to contribute look for the Make a Donation button on his right hand side bar.

Talking about SPAM...

...Johna Marinda says:

Damn, Ur Diicky Really Small ... Hohohohoh occupier concur

Way to hurt my feelings Johna.

Quote of the day

The world needs anger. The world often continues to allow evil because it isn't angry enough. - Bede Jarrett The House of Gold

The above quote is one that I have had stored in the vault for some time. It very quickly came to mind when I read this by some guy called Dennis Prager (via lgf). I was captivated by the first line:

If you love goodness and hate evil, this is a tough time to stay sane.

The quote I use above I don't use lightly. I understand and appreciate that anger is the cause of much of the evil that goes on today but that's not the kind of anger the quote is really referring to. It means the kind of anger that should be felt and expressed by two kinds of people but often isn't.

Firstly, the predominantly good but habitually indifferent. Those caught up in the day to day tasks of leading their complex and time draining lives. Those who know something happened in Rwanda, but didn't focus upon it until it was old news. Those who now look upon it as a history lesson rather than taking it on head-on when it was actually happening. We should have got angry about that, all of us, and made it impossible for the evil to continue.

Secondly the powerful. The quote refers to them in as much as it accuses them of not necessarily getting their priorities right. Gross domestic product, imports and exports, business contracts, not upsetting the balance. These can all be used by the powerful as an excuse for not getting angry enough and, consequently, allowing evil to continue.

Lack of anger can be bad. That is what the quote is getting at.

I have mail

For those of you who are wondering what I did to my email setup I thought I’d jot down the details here. Firstly I have to say that this has all been done for another domain that I own and not theenglandproject.net. The level of SPAM received through this domain is not at painful levels yet.

My main problem was the number of emails I was receiving with viral payloads hidden in attachments containing Microsoft executable files (of one form or another). I would often get 30 pop-up warnings about quarantined viruses when I checked mail and this was making the whole process of communicating via email a real pain. It got to the point where I didn’t want to click my check mail button because the ensuing process was just too damn painful.

Now, because my hosts give me my own Virtual Private Server my domain, to all intents and purposes, exists on what looks like its own linux server with all the paraphernalia that comes along with that. This means I have full access to the configuration for a program called procmail. This program is what all mail to my problematic domain gets routed through and in its configuration it’s possible to add rules or ‘recipes’ which instruct procmail what to do if any mail it is asked to handle fits in with certain rules. I chose the nuke option which means I told procmail to delete any incoming mail that includes attachments that contain any Microsoft Windows executable files. Kaboom. I never even get to know they were sent to me. They are deleted by the server before my email program ever gets to see them.

Ultra-effective.

The other issue was the various viagra style emails, business marketing stuff, free online diploma offers and the spoofs that looked like they came from ebay or paypal. These I had to handle differently from the executable attachment style email. I mean, I was happy for all executables to be deleted without a second thought because no-one I want to talk to would ever email me an executable so that was that but other types of email are harder to spot for definite as SPAM.

Again, my hosts provide a solution in the form of SpamAssassin which they will install on request. This is a program that will scan incoming email and add various information about how likely the email is to be SPAM to the email headers in special fields. This allows the user agent (my email program, yeah I know they like calling stuff agents and whatnot) to filter email into a SPAM box according to the information added by SpamAssassin. The great thing about it is that the rules SpamAssassin uses to classify email are configurable and most of the rules you will ever need are freely available on the Internet.

So, now when I check mail, the number of valid emails that end up in my inbox relative to the amount of SPAM has increased significantly. My inbox is once again information rich, and that’s the way I like it.

As for the mail in my SPAM email box, I maybe take a look every now and again to make sure they are being correcly classified as SPAM. Maybe I just delete the contents without looking, it all depends on the mood I am in. SpamAssassin is very good at spotting SPAM and the longer you use it the more you trust its decisions.

Just to finish the story and to satisfy any reader curiosity the email program I use to view my mail is Poco Mail. I’ve tried a number of mail programs in my time (Outlook Express, Eudora etc) and Poco Mail is by far the best. Ultra configurable but easy to use and simply great looking. The thing is a pleasure to use.

So that’s it. Technodull. Brought to you by The England Project.

Italy holds Nazi war crimes trial

Over the years my mother has told me a number of stories about her childhood experience with Nazis in Italy during the war. One which I may blog about one day involved two SS officers, a small supply of ground coffee and a rocking horse tail.

None of her stories are as horrific as the incident that took place in the village of Sant'Anna di Stazzema.

A little piece of history

Boudicca was tall, terrible to look on and gifted with a powerful voice. A flood of bright red hair ran down to her knees; she wore a golden necklet made up of ornate pieces, a multi-coloured robe and over it a thick cloak held together by a brooch. She took up a long spear to cause dread in all who set eyes on her. - Dio Cassius

Have my say

This EU constitution referendum thing, the Beeb have been kind enough to set up one of their Have your say resources where, you know, people can have their say. You really should go and read some of them:

The EU is a forward thinking entity that looks ahead to a bright and prosperous future. The UK has become a backward thinking, stick in the mud that still harps back to the good old days when we had an empire. It's time to join the modern world and realise that "they" are not out to get us but we can all enjoy an exiting future together. - Simon Gould, Brighton, England

If you want an exciting future, together, vote Yes! All that lovely constitutionally encouraged bright and prosperous future fun. Without it the British stand no chance of being forward thinking. Just because.

The public shouldn't be given a vote, because the public can't be trusted to make the right decision. There's too much arrogant pride, and not enough knowledge about the key benefits that are involved. - Tony, Beds, UK

That's great Tony. We can rely on you to let us know who should be allowed to vote on what. Stick it to those stupid people. Arrogantly.

We need to be with Europe for political and economic reasons. It seems that we are a nation of europhobes and that the Atlantic Ocean is smaller than the English Channel. Show me where I can join the Yes campaign! - Dave Macey, Bournemouth

Dave, the English channel is part of the Atlantic Ocean. Anyhow, shouldn't we start referring to it as La Manche? You know, for political and economic reasons. Only joking, you're right to bring the Americans into this. They are worse than Europeans, somehow.

There should definitely not be a referendum. Until the general public stops relying on the narrow-minded red-top newspapers to feed them an opinion on Europe, I believe that the government is right to overrule their wishes. - Marco, St Albans, UK

Overrule the wishes of the people. I like it Marco; it sounds so nasty.

Tony Blair, after dismissing the prospect of a referendum for years, has just returned from the USA and decided he wants a referendum. Who is he really listening to? - Mike Gascoigne, Camberley, UK

Dear God! It's all Bush's fault.

I was just about to open comments on this posting but decided against it. You people out there are too stupid and backward thinking to have any kind of say on this. Oh yeah, America sux!

Mamma mia!

The Italians are changing sides:

A committee headed by a leading prosecutor is currently drawing up proposals for a wide-ranging reform of the penal code. Addressing an electoral meeting on Saturday, Mr Castelli said: "In the new penal code, we shall be changing the concept of legitimate defence, which today is too far unbalanced in favour of the criminal, to the detriment of honest people."

In this country you can only get physical with your neighbourhood burglar if you can show in a court of law that your use of force was proportional with the physical threat posed to you personally by the crook. Or some such.

Punching his lights out because he was repeatedly walking in and out of your house removing all of your stuff is out of the question.

Can we suddenly expect an influx of Italian gangsters into the UK looking for easier pickings? Frankly I don't think so. We are pretty much at saturation point over here and trying to muscle in would be more trouble than it's worth.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

Two distinct types of people living in England today can be broadly described as those who are respectful of others and those who are not.

The respectful ones automatically default to this position until the subject of their attention prove themselves to be unworthy; they automatically treat another’s property with care and attention knowing, as they do, that sacrifices are often made to secure and own property. It takes time to earn the money to buy a mobile phone, or a bicycle, or a car and this is time out of someone’s life that they can never get back.

The disrespectful ones care only for themselves and their own feelings and this is their starting position whenever they meet someone they do not know. This is their position when they come into contact with the property of a stranger. They are careless and they couldn’t care less. As long as they are all right, their mates are ok and their stuff is fine then everything is sorted. Anything and anyone else doesn’t really matter.

It’s not always easy to spot which category a person falls into. Who is who? Which one of these people can be trusted with your iPod, your zippo or your garden lawnmower? Who will respect you and your property and who will not?

We need a simple test. One that can be employed by anyone in any village, town and city across the land using common items in a real world arena rather than in a stuffy laboratory with electrodes and those plotters they use to draw wavy lines on paper.

We at The England Project have such a test. It’s a destructive one in as much as to successfully classify someone as automatically disrespectful (let’s call them toe-rags) damage to property must be caused but, on the plus side, it is an easy test to run and it’s one that most of you try out unwittingly a number of times a month if not on a weekly basis. This is good because it means no training is required.

The test goes something like this.

Drive your car to a public car park, for instance a local shopping centre or supermarket, and park it. Then choose a spot some distance away from where you can observe your car. The toe-rags are the ones that park next to you and open their doors onto yours or who scrape past with their zips or shopping bags or trolley. The toe-rags are the ones that let their children push open their car doors themselves at some velocity onto your shiny paintwork. The toe-rags are the ones that simply don’t give a damn.

Why should they? They have no idea who you are. Who are you to have a nice motor anyway? Nice and shiny and clean.

What’s the problem with that bloke parking that heap of old bollocks van next to your well cared for family car and putting a few dents and scratches into it eh? I mean it’s just a fucking car. You shouldn’t get so uptight about it. Sure, his van looked like shit particularly parked so close to that nice car of yours but now yours has a few dents in it (and that long scratch down the side from that whateverthefucikitwas thing the toe-rag was carrying) his van don’t look so bad. Shit, you could almost be car brothers. What’s that? Show respect for your property? Bollocks.

Humph, sorry about that little rant. That was my family car that the toe-rag decided to park his van next to.

Admin

Sorry for the lack of postings. I have decided that I've had enough of spam emails, particularly those with viral payloads so I am spending a little time getting to grips with procmail and SpamAssassin.

Spam has been an escalating pain recently. Soon I will be able to crush it with my thumb.

Arg! I seem to have gone a little overboard with the thumbs and the crushing. The remaining question is where does email go when it dies? Rumours say some place called /dev/null. Sounds nice.

Fror Engrand, an Shnt. Grorge - hic

Some publicans are having some success in securing an extension to their opening hours using St. George's Day as the reason rather than having to dress the whole thing up as a charitible event:

When I applied for the extension I went with a 200-signature petition and made it very clear that I wanted it because it was St George’s Day and not just a charitable event.

“On Wednesday the magistrates responded by granting a special order of exemption on the grounds of St George’s Day, which is brilliant. Everyone is really excited now, we’re going to offer a full English breakfast until 6pm, have an evening buffet and hold raffles with prizes. It should be a great day.”

Magistrates are generally reluctant to grant exemptions for the national saint’s day, claiming it is not a day of special importance.

Licensees have often been forced to hold a fund-raising event to add a few extra hours of opening time.

The article links to the web site for the Value of St. George campaign, led by Wells Bombardier, the British Tourist Authority and The Publican which aims to gain for St. George's day the recognition our national saints day deserves.

I've always thought it odd that the day passes by without the merest hint of a Bank holiday or parade in London whereas on St. Patrick's day the pubs are full of people wearing those novelty hats you get each time you drink unlikely amounts of Guinness.

Channel 5 poll on that offer

Channel 5 news ran a phone poll last night on whether Europe should accept Bin Laden’s offer of a truce or not. I went incandescent.

I had this reaction for two reasons.

Firstly because the guy is a terrorist and the only course of action that should be taken when a terrorist offers you a deal is to stick you fingers in your ears and say “La, la, la, la, la”. To do anything else is to legitimise terrorist tactics. “Hey, you do this for me and we will stop killing you on your trains and in your shopping centres”. You certainly don’t run public polls on the subject.

Secondly, I don’t recognise Europe as an entity that can accept or decline such an offer.

On Game

Guess where I found this:

Nearby is a shooting estate, run by Malcolm the gamekeeper. Malcolm keeps his neighbours supplied throughout the season with partridge, teal, widgeon, mallard and pheasant. Unlike supermarket chickens, his pheasants have run wild and free and died in a sudden plunge to earth of which they knew little or nothing. If you are worried, as you ought to be, about the sufferings of the animals you eat, then eat wild duck, partridge or pheasant, and you will be on the side of the angels.

The Guardian.

Who won the Battle of Britain?

Apparently a single US pilot did. His codename? Tom Cruise.

God bless you Tom.

The Blunkett gun

What ever happens we need to make sure that David Blunkett never ever finds out about this:

What is the ID SNIPERTM rifle?

It is used to implant a GPS-microchip in the body of a human being, using a high powered sniper rifle as the long distance injector. The microchip will enter the body and stay there, causing no internal damage, and only a very small amount of physical pain to the target. It will feel like a mosquito-bite lasting a fraction of a second. At the same time a digital camcorder with a zoom-lense fitted within the scope will take a high-resolution picture of the target. This picture will be stored on a memory card for later image-analysis.

Apparently this is a fake. Phew.

Showers over Europe

When it comes to Europe, I'd much rather be on the outside pissing in.

Thatcher, queen of the unruly

What a load of old tosh:

The legacy of Thatcherism has led to a rise in aggression and bullying in schools, a teachers' leader said yesterday.

Pat Lerew, president of the National Association of Schoolmasters/Union of Women Teachers, said that, nearly 20 years after Margaret Thatcher declared that there was no such thing as society, parents who grew up in the 1980s had produced a generation of youngsters brought up to be selfish and to think the only thing that mattered was money.

Thatcher’s children know that the foundations of a successful future are education, hard work, freedom of choice and responsibility. These ideas are totally incompatible with a culture of physical or verbal aggression and bullying in schools.

Work hard. Take good subjects. Pass those exams. That was the message we got from Thatcher. Those that didn’t were simply not listening.

Schools have always had to deal with issues like bullying. Historically these were dealt with using a culture of strong discipline where kids knew that disruptive behaviour would be dealt with effectively at school and then at home.

Pat Lerew has misunderstood the causes of the problems we face today.

It’s not Thatcher’s principles that are to blame; instead it is the principles of those that have led us to a position of, as Kim du Toit might put it, the pussyfication of grown ups.

That old saying that if you give them an inch and they will take a mile is a good one. We have given ourselves over, inch by inch, to the rules of political correctness and the gradual disempowerment of teachers and the miles have been taken.

Lerew’s analysis has missed the mark. Failed the grade. 4/10, must try harder.

Here is something else that Thatcher had to say about society:

We want a society where people are free to make choices, to make mistakes, to be generous and compassionate. This is what we mean by a moral society; not a society where the state is responsible for everything, and no one is responsible for the state.

Oh the horror of it all.

Now hear this

The England Project is currently on manoeuvres. There will be no posting until the 13th April at the earliest. Urgent mail can be sent by carrier pigeon.

Hitchens on Blair

Peter Hitchens doesn't like Blair:

A growing number of people have recently been confirming this column's long-held view that our supposedly brilliant Prime Minister is, in fact, Olympically dim, a soap actor miles out of his depth.

This fact, whispered across Whitehall, was hidden for years by the skills of his mental valet, Alastair Campbell, who impersonated Mr Blair's brain for him. But it can no longer be concealed.

Just in case you were in any doubt.

The animals are to blame

So we begin to see the results of the tactics historically used by the less well behaved members of animal rights groups:

About 10,000 UK-based employees of BOC Group, the big listed industrial gases company, have won wide-ranging protections against animal rights campaigners.

This is not an isolated example as another nine companies have successfully applied for such orders over the past year.

I have mixed feelings about this as protest activity is a good and proper tool in a democracy. However, there is an important lesson to be learnt here. If your cause becomes associated with violent activity (albeit the activity of a minority of thugs) then it is your cause that will suffer.

Frankly I don’t think that animals have been served particularly well over the past decade or two and some animal rights groups need to look inwards to understand why.

Scottish field sports

Here at The England Project we pride ourselves in knowing a thing or two about hunting, shooting and, soon enough, fishing. I say soon enough because after a 25 year break I have decided that it’s about time I took it up again. I have dusted down my rods (sometimes being a hoarder actually pays dividends) and, having failed to locate the rest of my tackle, will be embarking upon a shopping trip or two to re-stock.

Browsing through various catalogues has led me to make the following observation; coarse fishing has become complicated. From what I can see I need about £24,000 worth of equipment before I have any chance of catching even a single stickleback. I have at most £200 to spend so will have to make up the shortfall of £23,800 by employing innate skill and instinct. I will land that fish.

We like such sporting activity here. Though I have not hunted for bird nor fish for many years this has been through circumstance rather than choice and I see less wrong with taking from the field than I do with harvesting from the factory. The former is mostly low level and done for sport or vermin control, the latter is on the industrial scale and is done for profit.

So, I am pleased to have received an email from John pointing me to the following article on what could be an upturn in the profile of such sports, albeit in Scotland. You have to start somewhere:

VisitScotland’s research-dedicated website now boasts a clutch of field sport-based organisations, the beginnings of a market research database on sporting tourism and, crucially, invites comment (rather bravely) and information.

This is heartening stuff for those who feared the organisation was gripped in the maw of parliamentary-driven political correctness, especially when it came to shooting, worth at least £100 million a year.

It seems to me that VisitScotland has been rumbled. They have not been playing all the strings that they have available to them and some people have been wondering why:

Despite VisitScotland’s protestations that field sports have always been on its list of areas in need of addressing, precious few people knew it. Indeed, not even VisitScotland staff knew it. This became hideously apparent when an Aberdeenshire organic hill farmer complained that the official website omitted to mention anything about the opportunities for roe deer stalking in Scotland and was told by VisitScotland that it "didn’t think in this day and age that sort of thing should go on a public website". To which a great many people said: Rubbish. Or words to that effect.

Political correctness in this context is nothing more than a bias against a few minority pastimes and such bias has no place in an organisation responsible for attracting visitors to a country that excels in the pleasures of such pastimes.

Let’s hope that this is solid improvement and that it continues to grow.

More on wine

I am, apparently, behind the times as far as screw-top wines are concerned. Andrew mails:

Many of the best Australian producers have been doing screw-tops for quite a while now.

There are lots of reasons - material cost, shortage of natural cork of the right quality, reduced spoilage, cheaper automation of filling lines, easier opening.

Like you I hated them at first. But now I can appreciate the simplicity: in my house on a Friday night, it invariably turns out that the bloody teenagers have pinched all the corkscrews again, so not needing one is really a plus.

It will become more widespread I am sure, even tending towards universal. If you don't like it, stick with the grandest (and therefore most costly) French and Italian traditional winemakers. My prediction is, they will be the last to succumb, and some - classed-growth clarets and the great names of Burgundy - may never do so.

Some tourist advice

Just in case any passing Americans are interested in British pubs I thought I’d let you know about my local.

It’s called the Old Bell.

In The Old Bell is a fireplace and sitting on the floor next to the fireplace is a rather large and old looking bell.

This is why you should never visit pubs called things like The Green Dragon or The Highwayman.

Cheers.

Squadron Leader Mike Cooper-Slipper

What kind of man rams an enemy aircraft when he runs out of ammunition? This kind of man.

Quote of the day

"It's only a game if you win but if you lose it's a stinking waste of time." - Al Bundy

"We failed them. The system failed them."

That’s not something you hear a judge say every day and, frankly, it’s refreshing.

Fathers have historically had a raw deal out of divorce and it’s about time that started to change. In fact men in general are settling for a worse deal than women do in my opinion but I guess that is a discussion for another time.

Now, where’s my surfboard. I fancy entering a women’s only surfing competition.

Melanie Phillips joins in.

Good wine

I have a bad feeling about this.

In recent weeks I have become aware of what could be a trend in the wine packaging industry; one that I’m not particularly happy with.

I’m no great wine buff, usually being content with wine of a mediocre calibre, but recently I have had the good fortune to come into contact with a couple of great bottles, new world of course, and I noticed something strange.

They had screw-top lids.

I know, it’s horrible, but it’s true. Screw-top.

To me, screw-top is just another way of saying Blue Nun or Liebfraumilch. You know, the kind of wine that has it’s own special category. We have white wine, red wine, rose and screw-top.

But this is no longer the case.

Take this wine as an example. It is a Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc Marlborough 2003, it’s screw-top and it’s very nice but the experience of drinking it has changed.

To really enjoy a bottle of wine there are a number of stages, parts of a ritual, that need to be observed.

First you have to hunt around for the bottle opener. Then you have to remove the old cork from it and discard it. Then you offer up the bottle to the opener. Then you have to put the opener down because you’ve forgotten to remove the foil from the top of the bottle. Then you hunt around for your foil cutter but quickly change your mind deciding instead to use the sharp bit of the bottle opener. Next you have to use the opener to remove the cork from the unopened bottle of wine, being careful not to break it. Then you hear the pop, you see the cork, you drink the wine.

Now, with a screw-top, the ritual becomes as follows.

First you remove the screw-top. Then you drink the wine.

See what I mean?

So, has anyone else noticed this? Is the screw-top an emerging trend? Who is to blame? Should we campaign against it?